


Of Cat and Hound

by lizrook



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, POV Sandor, Sandor x OC, Ser Sandor, implied SanSan, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:05:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizrook/pseuds/lizrook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey my lovelies, this is my first Sandor fic hence a two shot. To those who follow my chaptered story, 'A life for a Gem' this is a little something to read while you wait for the next chapter. </p><p>Enjoy my lovely dumplings. xx</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey my lovelies, this is my first Sandor fic hence a two shot. To those who follow my chaptered story, 'A life for a Gem' this is a little something to read while you wait for the next chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy my lovely dumplings. xx

"Hound! To me!" 

In a few powerful strides, Sandor crossed the narrow space between his Grace's throne and his post at the door, careful not to show any contempt in his face for the brat king. 

"Yes your Grace?" 

Sandor rasped, his vacant face devoid of his hateful inner musings. 

"In reward of your name day, as well as your long years of service, the Queen Regent and i have decided to present the hound with a companion. My lady Sansa's best and most trusted handmaiden, Erasabeth Rooke." The king smiled triumphantly, beaming down at Sandor. The hound almost felt sorry for the poor girl, being wed off to a beast like him, all for King Joffery's feeble attempts of further spying on Lady Sansa in this wretched power play of a kingdom. Sandor choked back a mirthless laugh of blind hate towards it all, that bastard Joffery, the smug Queen Regent and her coils of golden curls, like venomous snakes, whispering the dirty little secrets of every man, woman and child in King's Landing into her blackened, twisted ears. Most of all, Lady Sansa. He could barely get the taste of her sweet summer-milk skin from his lips, the hushed whispers of girlish confessions, murmured in confidence to him. The king snapped his fingers before Sandor could snarl, drawing out a slight creature from behind her Lady Sansa. She was young and brilliant, her freshness and mystery almost overcoming her Lady's guise of white-vanilla innocence. The maiden was barely even a woman, a wispy sixteen years to his thirty-eight, albeit her exotic almond eyes and and raven curls adding a few years to that measly number. The flimsy material of her handmaiden's shift ghosted over the outline of a voluptuous figure, common among girl slaves bought from the Free Cities. She smiled at Sandor, meekly at first, full of the gentle manners and promise every young lady's handmaiden was supposed to have. she curtseyed to her future husband while His Grace watched on, but winked mischievously at Sandor, one of wild promise when the king turned his back to address Sandor. He was so stunned by this breath of life that had all but given him a blow to the cheek, he barely caught the king's words. "You are to wed Erasabeth on the morrow, in the sept of the Seven, as per the woman's following." King Joffery's face reddened, looking like he was about to to retch from giving into a simple handmaiden's wedding requests. The Queen Regent placed a warning arm on the king's hand, eyes steeling. Sandor, in response to the girl's boldness, merely nodded curtly, unwilling to scare her away, yet pleased to see that she didn't shy away from his scars like her good lady Sansa had, but stared him straight on in the eyes, alight with desire and burning ice. 

"Am i to get no thanks?" King Joffery howled, his shrill voice ringing through the throne room. Lady Sansa nudged the girl forward, she and Sandor kneeling before the king, each singing their own deceptive songs of thanks. The king grew impatient with the tirade quickly enough, snapping, "Bloody hell Hound! Take the bitch and go!" King Joffery instinctively reached for his crossbow, in an effort to threaten the towering Hound. Sandor could've rolled his eyes, but instead, Erasabeth bowed lower, looping her arm through Sandor's she led him away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is my little dumplings, finally, a chapter on time!

"Erasabeth," Sandore rasped, as soon as they were out of earshot from the throne room. "I apologise for this unfortunate arrangement, an old dog like me is hardly a match for a woman of your age." Erasabeth smirked, rolling her eyes at Sandor's ignorance, taking in his surly attitude & halting courtesies. Could he not see that she cared for him? If he wanted false courtesies and weak song like the lies her Lady Sansa sang, she could play that game too. She could bat her eyelashes and pretend to be innocent, preening and swooning, leading him on with a woman's weapons. "Ser Clegane, please, call me Era, it's only right for your wife-to-be. Really Ser, you in all your strength are far from the worst that i could do, take for instance, to wed the brat king!" She laughed at the thought, her playful; flirtatious giggle a coarser, more sensual ploy on Sansa's forced smiles, miles bolder than anything her lady would ever do as she looped her arm through Sandor's. He was clearly taken aback, speechless and stone-still until he gathered his wits about him. Sandor's mouth twitched, his ruined face turning up in a smile. "Careful Era," he replied, wan humor creeping into his voice. "These walls have ears, and it would be a shame to see you hanged." Era's heart felt like it was about to burst with joy, her body buzzing from Sandor's somewhat compliment. At that, her heart broke forth with song, bubbly laughter, coursing through her in tinkles, unabashed and best of all, free. In the stifling prison that was King's Landing, Erasabeth Rooke had found freedom, and so did Sandor, felling the weight of her head on his arm. Looking down at her, that tiny girl, small and sleek, with a glint of something Sandor thought had long died within him, he threw his head back and roared with his fierce little cat. It was when he stopped, did he see an unbridled joy glowing like embers in Era's eyes. Leaning down, almost gentle, he claimed her lips for his, burning with passion and tempered in ice. "I. Am. No. Ser." he breathed against her soft lips, it was then, did he truly know, he had found what he was searching for his whole life, something no champion's purse could ever contend. 

Love.

And it was with his little cat, he could feel like he'd forgotten it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Sandor you sensitive soul, 
> 
> i hope i gave you the feels! 
> 
> Enjoy my lovelies! xx

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it! 
> 
> it turned out to be a lot longer than i expected, hence the two-shot instead of the intended one-shot. 
> 
> enjoy my lovely dumplings!!! xx


End file.
